Nina spent five full minutes staring at the tiled wall of the washroom, hands gripping the edges of the sink like it might anchor her to reality.
Her heart had finally stopped racing, but the sense of humiliation still sat heavy in her chest.
'Can I just go back to my room and apologize later?'
She asked quietly.
Her Patron snorted.
[You could try. But you know your mother—she'd chase you down with an army if it meant dragging you back.]
Nina groaned.
'Right. She's too stubborn for that.'
[Then face it.]
'You sound too happy about this.'
[No, just realistic. Grow up, kid. You can't hide in bathrooms forever.]
Sighing, Nina splashed cold water on her face and wiped it dry with a paper towel.
Her reflection stared back at her—expression blank, but her eyes betraying a mixture of dread and determination.
She headed back to the table, heart thudding again with each step.
